Hello from Penrhyn Island

We are now in Apia, Samoa where we have internet access for the first time in a month and thus can now send an update of our travels. We went several hundred miles out of our way to go to Penrhyn Island, on the recommendation of Doug Nelms our sailing friend who was here 15 years ago. Penrhyn Island is the northern most island of the Cook Island group, 600 miles northwest from Bora Bora. The trip was exhausting because the auto pilot gave us problems again and thus we hand steered most of the way – again!

The “island” is really a very large atoll. The volcano that formed it sunk millions of years ago leaving between 20-30 motus along the old fringing reef and another one that grew up in the middle where the old volcano was. Now the locals call the outer motu the island and the inner one the motu. There are anchorages at the last two remaining villages. It is the only island of the Cook Island chain that does not have a chief and clan form of governance. In 1863 four missionaries were tricked into recruiting almost 500 “Penrhyners” to be sent into work the mines in Peru at $5 a head in hope of getting enough money to build a new church. They convinced the chief and nearly all of the men on the island to go. The missionaries got paid $5 per man signed up. However the four of them had to go along also and once on board and sailing away, they found themselves slaves along with the natives. Their once started church is still around; slowly being overtaken by the jungle.

The main village is on the leeward side of the island and has a population of 150. The smaller village is on the windward side with a population of 50. That’s it – there are no more. You must “check into the country” at the bigger village which has a terrible anchorage – full of coral heads and murky water and huge swells being blown up from across the island; whereas the smaller village has a lovely anchorage full of sand and great visibility and a few coral heads that are easily seen.

We arrived about 9:30 am after standing off outside the lagoon for the night. The entrance to the lagoon was easy and we followed sticks in the water to guide us through the corals to the main town of Omoka. The water was deep and dark and we couldn’t see anything, so we had to rely on our depth sounder to show sudden changes in depth, which would indicate coral heads or a period of level sounding which might be sand.

We were greeted by three very friendly Cook Island officers, Taime for customs and immigration; Robin, who sprayed the boat for insects, and is also the “dentist” in town; and Terrence, the doctor – our health inspector. As we often do, we offered them tea and cookies. After checking in, Taime (who wanted to “trade” for almost anything we had) invited us to stay in their anchorage that night and come to the evening’s performance of the Boy’s Brigade, which is apparently a hold over from the London Missionary Society days.

We went and it was a great show – all boys of course. They had just come back from four days of religious retreat and were putting on a show for the locals. Most of the skits they put on were bawdy skits of men and boys dressing and dancing like women! The women in audience just howled with delight.

The following day Mike went fishing with Taime and Junior (using our gas and fishing hooks) and caught 6 cod. There were about 10 boats out fishing in the same area and they were all dismayed at the poor catch. Whereas in the “old” days they would catch 200 cod a piece, they were now just catching 40 a piece. They just couldn’t understand the in’s and out’s of overfishing. They’ve fished out the Neopolitian fish species (“they were dumb and easy to spearfish and good eating”) and wonder where they all went. There are still plenty of fish, clams, lobsters available but managing their ecosystem is simply not on their horizon.

Mary stayed in town and met a lot of people; was invited for visits, tea and coffee and to talk “trading”. Sunday Taime took us to church – CICC (Cook Island Christian Church) – the legacy of the London Missionary Society and really a Congregational Church. The minister made sure he said some key things in English (they speak Maori and English). After attending that church, we went to the Catholic Church, where we joined choir practice and got to sing some of the Polynesian harmonies that are so beautiful. Afterward Alex (the lay priest) took us to his house for a HUGE lunch prepared by his wife Christine, followed by watermelon and homemade “Penrhyn” ice cream. What a treat!

On Monday we moved across the lagoon to Tetautua (the small village) on the east side, where the anchorage is protected from the prevailing trade winds. These were very friendly people who welcome yachties into their lives and wanted to “trade” for everything! We were invited to watch while they prepared the leaves of the coconut palm to make hats and fans. Another day we watched while several people sat on the ground and scraped the insides out of young coconuts for a special meal that was to be prepared for some guys working on the minister’s house. We attended their church and then went to Penui’s house for a visit. He gave us two lobsters to take home for our lunch. They were delicious.

We had a very interesting discussion with a visiting school teacher, named Maru, from Rarotonga. She told us that in absence of the normal chief and clan governance, the church had filled the vacuum and now ruled every aspect of life on Penrhyn. The Congregationalists installed a very rigid form of religious practice and in essence stepped in, filled the gap, and in effect became the chief. Many young island men now want to become ministers, as it means wealth, power and prestige in the community. They usually wind up in Australia or New Zealand.

Church attendance is mandatory – Wednesday and Friday at 6:30 am in full dress. Then Sunday comes. Sunday is a day of rest and church. The day starts with a service at 6:30 am, announced by the ringing of the bells. Since there are only about 50 people here in the village of Te Tautua, every one can hear the bells. Sunday school follows at 8 am, and then the main church service begins at 10:00. That is the one we attended. After church the people are supposed to rest (as in lay down), have a light lunch, and return for the afternoon service at 2, then at about 5pm there is a singing service. The bells ring for them all. Playing, swimming, walking, fishing, etc. is not allowed, nor open fires. All cooking must be done the day before. We are allowed to use our dinghy to come ashore for services and visiting. No music must be played. This is just one aspect of the fascinating culture we found on Penrhyn Island.

Everyday we were visited by children on a paddleboard. They had been coming out to all the boats for “goodies”. From the Polish boat they learned to ask for “lollies” (lollypops); from the German boat they learned to ask for chocolate. Those boats #4 and 5 for the year left the day after we arrived. We had no idea what a lolly was and had no chocolate but got the idea pretty quick what they were after. So from us they learned to ask for cookies. It was lots of fun and we got to know them pretty well. The children played amongst up to a dozen lemon sharks along the shore. The sharks were attracted to the village due the cleaning of the fish and almost became tame. The children would shoo them away when they came back from our boat with their treats.

The islanders are enthusiastic traders. They don’t have much to trade – old black pearls, weavings, shell necklaces, tiny natural pearls called Penrhyn gold, fans and woven hats. They trade like some people shop. They may have enough flash lights or batteries, but will still ask if you have some to trade, because they stock up. All supplies come in on two supply ships, one from Hawaii, and one from Rarotonga. They come when there are enough orders to fill a ship, so the people often go for three months or more without a delivery. This can result in shortages. Papa Soitu (sigh-too) told us how he mobilizes his people of the smaller village to stock up on basic supplies – flour, rice, sugar – when the deliveries come in. He told us the other day, “My people don’t go hungry. They are going hungry over there” (Omoka). Right now there is no flour, the rice is running out, and the people of Omoka are asking the villagers of Tetautua for rice and flour. Taime begged to buy 5 gallons of gasoline from us because he had run out and had none. Fortunately we had some extra.

Penryhn has lost 80 % of its population to Australia and New Zealand in the last ten years (200 on the island and 11,000 descendants living in NZ or Aus). The people go for jobs and more opportunities in life. They love coming back here to rest and visit, but the young families want more for their children, so send them to live with relatives in Aus and NZ. The young women like to go to NZ or Oz (Australia) to have their babies, and the governments help pay for the transportation. (Cook Islands are a New Zealand protectorate). The pearl industry went belly-up in 2002 and the next year about half the islanders left.

Then it was time to leave so we had to go back to the bad anchorage at the “big” village – they can’t make life easy. We filled out the exact same papers we did on arrival and had to pay our exit fee and anchorage fees. But life is sometimes not fair. Whereas we left this village 10 days prior without a problem, this time we got caught up on a coral head and before you could say watch out, the bow roller just snapped off – getting up against the hard chain and surging waves from across the bay. We were able to save it and get it on board; get the locals to come dive on the chain; and free the chain, etc. But that took over two hours and we left through the pass out to open ocean at sunset licking our wounds. Because of the bow roller, we were now heading to Apia instead of Suwarrow Island 900 miles instead of 400 miles.

We’d recommend Penrhyn to anyone. We had a truly unique experience and one with great memories.